


The Promise in a Kiss

by destimushi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas loves bees, Kiss cam, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day, county fair, hey-sweetheart challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 19:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and the annual County Fair is in town. Dean uses this chance to do something he's been meaning to for a long time.





	The Promise in a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the wonderful Aceriee and her gorgeous art, I was inspired to do the [DeanCas Hey Sweetheart challenge](http://deancas-sweetheart.tumblr.com/). Here's a thousand words of some of the fluffiest things I've ever written! Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
> 
> Please go check out [Aceriee's Tumblr](https://missaceriee.tumblr.com/) and give her some love. Her artwork is inspirational.

 

Butterflies. They flutter up a storm in Dean’s gut.

The County Fair is in full swing by the time the Impala crunches to a stop in the gravel parking lot. Dean steals a glance at Cas, waits for him to get out of the car before running his hand across the small of his back. His fingers smooth across something rigid beneath the layers of cotton and flannel.

Satisfied, Dean breathes a small sigh and steps out into the frigid February air. The sound of laughter and the smell of greasy fair food teases a smile on his lips, and for a split second, he forgets why they’re there. Forgets what he has planned as he inhales deeply and takes it all in. This is what happiness smells like, despite what Sammy says about “all this junk food.”

Cas slips his hand into Dean’s, slotting his fingers in the empty spaces. Dean grins as he lets Cas tug him to the entrance, enjoying the warmth of Cas’ skin seeping through his. Cas fits into his life like the way his hand fits into Dean’s palm, snug and comfortable. Warm, like a campfire on a cold winter night.

It’s been years since Cas stepped into Dean’s life in a spectacular shower of sparks, and years more since Dean Winchester hung up the machete and retreated from the hunting life. Cas came with him, of course he did, and Team Free Will became simply Free.

They step through the temporary gate into a sea of flashing lights, and the hum of indistinguishable voices wash over Dean. His grip tightens, and for a split second the cacophony overwhelms his senses. He tenses, eyes darting for the nearest exists, and it’s another few thumping heart beats before Cas turns and gives him a reassuring smile.

There is no danger. They are safe. There are no more monsters.

At least, that’s what the British Men of Letters promises. After coming to a compromise and, under Sam’s strict supervision, the British Men of Letters teamed up with hunters across America and cleaned house. Turns out, most monsters just want to be left alone, and as long as they’re not hurting anyone, the hunters did just that.

Peace was unsteady at first, brittle like blown sugar, but as time passed with neither side disturbing the calm, co-existence became a reality. Sam and his team of hunters chase ghosts now, and that leaves Dean and Cas free to do what they always wanted to do.

Dean painted the picket fence. Cas hung up his old trench coat for the new one Dean bought him. Together, they carved a little space for themselves in a town too small to make it on a map.

No one knows who they are. Utter perfection.

Cas leans into him, kisses his jaw, and his face splits with a dazzling smile as his eyes hone in on the farmer’s market. “Come on, Dean, I want to see if Martha is back this year.”

Dean follows, watches the sway of Cas’ hips as he pulls them through the sea of people, drinks in the elegant curve of his neck and the slope of his shoulders. Even after all these years, Cas is still the most striking man Dean’s ever seen. Striking and beautiful and breathtaking when he smiles at Dean.

Cas gives Dean’s hand an excited squeeze, and Dean knows the old bee keeper is here for one more year. They hurry over to the booth, and Cas drops Dean’s hand as he reaches for the nearest jar of honey with a hand written label. “Hello, Martha,” Cas says with a beaming smile. “I was afraid you would not make it this year.”

“You and me both, my boy,” Martha replies. “It’s too cold for these old bones to stand around outside in the middle of February. This just might be my last year.”

Dean listens as Martha and Cas banter across the table, with Cas stacking an impressive pile of jars in front of him. They met Marth the year they moved here, and through her, Dean learned that honey came in more variety than the stuff you get in the bear-shaped bottle.

She also rekindled Cas’ love for bees.

Dean loves the way Cas’ eyes light up when he talks about beekeeping, loves the way his hands take on a life of their own as he speaks with Martha.

“It’s a shame you can’t keep your own bees,” Martha says. “You’d be great at it.”

Cas smiles, and Dean forgets how to breathe at its radiance. “Our neighbour is deathly allergic to bee stings,” Cas says. “My hobby isn’t worth his life.”

It’s another ten minutes before Cas, with seven jars of honey in his bag, turns and kisses Dean on the cheek.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he says. “Where do you want to go next?”

“Aw, Honey Buns, I thought for sure today was the day you left me for Martha,” Dean mocks and kisses Cas’ nose, glad his voice is light and teasing despite his breakfast threatening for a reappearance.

Cas rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Dean’s. “You know how much I hate it when you call me that.”

“How about Baby?” Dean tugs Cas close to him and steers them back the way they came, heading for his destination.

“That’s your car.”

“Dumpling? Pumpkin?” They stroll past the food stalls into the gaming area. “Oh, I know, you can be my Cherry Pie.”

“I will most certainly not.” Cas glares at him. “Where are we going?”

Dean swallows as they arrive at the back of the fair and runs his free hand against the small of his back once more. Courage. _You can do this, Winchester._ “We’re here,” he announces as they stop in front of an inconspicuous booth.  

“The camera booth?”

“Figured we can take a picture together,” Dean says and scrubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Y’know, like a souvenir”

“Of course, Dean. I have change, hold on,” Cas says and digs into his back pocket, producing a handful of coins.

Time slows down as Cas slots the money into the machine. The booth comes to life, lights flashing around the entrance, an enticing slow blink to draw them inside. Cas turns and gives him a gummy smile, then ducks under the low door into the booth. Dean takes a deep breath, reaches behind him, under his multiple layers of shirts, and slips in behind Cas.

He draws the curtain shut just as Cas picks something simple and elegant for the frame of their photos. Dean watches his long fingers pushing buttons, making selections, drinks in the tilt of his head and the small crease etched between his brows from the reflection in the screen.

Cas is perfect. This moment is perfect. They are perfect. Together.

Every fiber of Dean’s body screams in anticipation. Suddenly, he can’t wait for the first snap of the camera as he brings the small sign in front of him, wanting to document every shift in Cas’ expression in this moment.  

Cas smiles into the camera. Dean holds up the sign and his hand trembles.  

 _Snap_.

_SWEETHEART MARRY ME?_

_Snap_.

Cas’ smile falters, and he turns to stare at the sign, then Dean. “Wha—”

The number on the screen counts down.

“Cas, I—”

 _Snap._  

Tears well up in Cas’ eyes, and he smiles at Dean like never before. It’s a slow curl of lips and the corners of his eyes crinkle. Dean knows, then, what Cas’ answer will be without him saying it.

The Timer starts once more.

 _Four_.

Cas reaches for him, trembling fingers warm against Dean’s cheek.

 _Three_.

He nods. Once, and his smile grows impossibly wide.

 _Two_.

Dean brings his forehead to Cas’ and finds himself reflected in the blue of Cas’ eyes. It’s where he belongs. “Happy Valentine’s, Sweetheart.”

Cas leans in, and his warm lips presses a searing kiss into the corner of Dean’s mouth.

 _One_.

A promise sealed with a kiss.

_Snap._

Butterflies. They flutter free in the sky.

 


End file.
